


The Sickness

by SomewhereApart



Category: CSI: Miami
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-17
Updated: 2014-07-17
Packaged: 2018-02-09 04:54:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,015
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1969758
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SomewhereApart/pseuds/SomewhereApart
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Calleigh is sick, Eric is keeping her company. Sex happens. Takes place after 7x03 "And How Does That Make You Kill?"</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Sickness

They were curled on the couch together, indulging in an all-evening marathon of _Sex and the City_. The coffee table in front of them was strewn with crumpled tissues and orange peels, Calleigh’s vain attempt to dose herself with vitamin C in an effort to combat the cold that had her couch-ridden. She’d been at work that day and the day before, certainly, much to the chagrin of her coworkers. She didn’t miss work, not over a cold. Not even if it had her achy and sneezy and doubling over in rattling, lung-crushing coughs. She’d just tried her best to keep to the firearms lab, resorting to reports when she realized that firing weapons wasn’t a great idea when the wrong breath could aggravate her into a coughing fit.

It wasn’t all bad – the downtime had given her a chance to mull over what she’d seen in Eric’s file three days before. She’d known he had feelings for her, and they’d certainly always had an intimate friendship, but she’d never realized that he depended on her quite as much as he did, or that he’d thought about a future for them in the way he had. I mean, sure, she’d indulged in the occasional (if she was honest, she might have to upgrade “occasional” to “frequent”) lurid fantasies of the two of them, in the ballistics lab, in the Hummer, on her kitchen table… But that was different, that was… a solo activity that she had never intended to go beyond her own bedroom late at night. It was certainly not something she’d ever admit to anyone, even a therapist.

Still, it had warmed her. Confused her, but warmed her, and maybe under other circumstances she’d have let the confusion win out and refused him when he came hovering around her for the fourth time that day, insisting that she take off early. But she was tired, and she was sick, and while she’d refused to go home early, she had allowed him to drive her home at the end of the day. And then she’d allowed him to heat her a can of soup while she showered and changed, and a cup of tea while she curled up on the couch and ate. Then, the DVDs had gone in, and before the first disc was finished, she’d been curled up next to him, ripping into the second orange.

Now they were almost through with disc two, and they were spooned together, his arm curled underneath her head, his head propped on a pillow so he could see over her to the TV. Not that it mattered, because he wasn’t watching the TV. Hadn’t been since the last episode on the first disc. He’d been watching her. His fingertips had traced along her jaw, her neck, rubbed her back. The physical intimacy was new a level for them, and they hadn’t spoken about it or what caused it. Not except for the few sentences she’d offered him as they switched DVDs.

“I did read your file. I’m not ready to talk about it yet.”

He’d paused, looked up at her with the disc hovering just over the tray. “I don’t know what’s in it, you know.”

“You know what you talked about.”

“I do.”

“So.” She’d taken in a breath to sigh and it had caught in her throat, released on a gasp, another quick inhale and then a harsh cough. Moment officially ruined, he’d plopped the DVD in and settled next to her on the couch, handing her a tissue and rubbing her back until the coughing fit was finished. She’d spat into the tissue and balled it up, cheeks flushing slightly with embarrassment. “I’m sorry. I’m gross.”

“You’re sick. There’s a difference.” His fingers had traced through her hair in a gesture that was ridiculously tender, before he’d nudged her shoulder gently. “Scoot. Let me lay behind you again.”

She’d complied wordlessly, and they hadn’t picked up the subject of his files again. Not verbally, anyway, but she’d noticed his hand had become a little more bold, tracing around to her belly and swirling patterns there. Now he was definitely watching her instead of the TV. She couldn’t blame him, she supposed. He’d already sat through hours of girl talk; to someone who felt for her the way he did, she must have been a much more interesting study than the four women on the screen.

So now they were here, her back to his chest, his breath washing against her hair, his fingertips tracing up and down across the center of her belly, over her hip, down her thigh and back up. It was… nice. It had been a while, honestly, since she’d been petted and stroked. She and Jake had certainly indulged in a night or two of slow sex, but that had always been more teasing than tender. They’d rarely touched without intention, whether it was to persuade or arouse or taunt. She just wasn’t usually the cuddling type, or maybe it was that she never went for the cuddling type? Either way, the slow, lingering caresses of his fingertips were a pleasantly new experience, and she decided to let herself enjoy them. She could have stopped him, and maybe she should have. But she didn’t. She watched the TV, and he watched her, both of them hyper-aware of the movement of his hand as it nudged under her top to trace bare skin.

He skimmed the waistband of her sweats with a feather-light fingertip and she fought not to squirm. The touch slid a little higher, circled her navel, then coasted over the bottom of her ribcage and back down to her hip. Calleigh felt the flare of goosebumps across her skin, despite the slight heat of fever that still clung to her, and couldn’t fight the curve of her lips.

“That feels nice…” Her voice was barely more than a whisper; she wasn’t even sure he heard her. He didn’t answer, except to keep up the slow, meandering exploration of her skin, lulling her into a soft, sweet place just above sleep where the TV became white noise, her eyes losing focus as their lids drooped slightly. This was just… lovely. She could stay like this for hours, she thought. Days. Weeks. Years. Forever. Her skin was humming under his touch, buzzing as his fingertips swirled randomly, reverently. If she’d been more awake, she might have noticed sooner that every swoop along her stomach slid a little higher, but she was so blissfully relaxed that she didn’t notice the slow creep until he brushed against the underside of her breast.

Half-closed eyes lifted open again, but she kept them trained on the TV. She could still feel his gaze on her, and he must be gauging her now, looking for a reaction as his fingers wandered down along her ribcage again. Sneaky fingers slid up, up, coasting between her breasts this time, his thumb grazing the curve of one. Calleigh’s heart was thudding hard now, quick insistent knocks that demanded she make a decision of some kind, but her brain was fried. She couldn’t think rationally as he trailed his fingertips along one heavy swell, tracing it all the way back to the side of her ribcage then drawing the caress down to her hip.

Closing her eyes, she tried to focus. Did she want this? Well, of course she wanted this, but was it smart? Was it right? Should she be stopping him before it went too far? He was spiraling around her bellybutton again and she swallowed hard, frowning in concentration. She didn’t want to tell him to stop touching her, that much she knew, but she could ask him not to –

“You’re so beautiful. Do you know that?”

The whisper brushed her ear and shot like an electric shock down her neck to her heart, making it flop and spin with a giddy delight she couldn’t remember feeling in years. Ridiculous. She’d been called beautiful plenty of times. “Don’t stop touching me.” Had she said that? Out loud? She couldn’t tell?

She must have, though, because his hand wandered slowly up to her breast again, skimming the curve, then brushing whisper-light fingertips across her nipple. “Can I touch you here?” Calleigh swallowed hard, didn’t answer. “Do you want me to stop?”

Chewing her lower lip, Calleigh let her eyes blink open again and shook her head. Eric pressed a kiss into her hair, then let his thumb circle lazily around her nipple. He seemed to be touching just for the sake of touching, teasing her with slow, light caresses that made her breath come just a little faster as a low hum of pleasure swirled into her belly. “You’re so soft,” he sighed into her ear, and her heart knocked hard again. God, who knew? Apparently whispering sweet nothings actually worked on her.

“Thank you,” she breathed, her voice catching slightly as his fingertips caught one peak and squeezed lightly, releasing it after a gentle roll and tug. He did it again, slowly, drawing out the teasing pressure and she felt the echo of it low in her belly. If he kept that up, she knew what would happen… But he didn’t. He switched to the ghosting caresses he’d been giving her all evening, and she bit her lip again.

His touch moved to her other breast and she sighed softly – then coughed hard, his hand moving around to rub her back. Well, that was just unsexy. When it passed, she settled back against him, and murmured an apology. He told her not to be silly as he cupped her again, ran his palm across her. “Do you want me to stop?” he asked again.

“No,” she insisted, covering his hand with hers for a moment and guiding his fingers back to her peak. “Just… I’m just probably going to cough a lot.” He chuckled, and she smirked – then gasped – then coughed – as he rolled her nipple gently again.

Now he was smirking, and reaching past her to the coffee table for one of the Ricolas piled there. “Here. See if that helps.” Calleigh shifted onto her back, unwrapping the lozenge and popping it in her mouth as his hand took up its teasing again, first one breast, then the other, never lingering long enough as far as she was concerned. Her eyes were closed again, because she couldn’t watch him watch her, not without blushing four shades of red and having to stop because she was simply too exposed. Her toes curled, and she couldn’t help the soft sighs that were now made possible by the fine folks in Switzerland, but it could be better.

She’d had this ridiculous fantasy that Eric would somehow have known every trick, every spot, like years of friendship would somehow translate into a sexual ESP of sorts and she wouldn’t have had to guide him at all. Silly, she thought now. _Just because he takes the time to touch you like no one else ever has, or because he whispers nice things to you doesn’t mean he knows how your body works, Duquesne._ After all, he wasn’t just a more sensitive version of Jake, who could trip every trigger she knew she had and in the process discover half a dozen more. No, he was Eric, and he was new to her body, and if she wanted him to rile her up just right, she might have to show him a trick or two. But she hated that, especially during a first encounter. It made her feel bossy and demanding and—

“Where’d you go?” His lips brushed her cheek, right before her eyes fluttered open, and she hoped maybe he’d think her sudden flush of embarrassment was either arousal or fever. His hand was back on her belly – when had that happened?

“What?”

“You’re distracted.” He was smiling at her, half amused, half…nervous. He was like an open book sometimes, and she could see the insecurity in his eyes, right there underneath the mirth, making her feel guilty. He’d been lavishing attention on her and she’d gotten distracted.

“Just… thinking.”

Eric smirked, then leaned down to nibble her earlobe and her jaw dropped slightly. Recognizing that choking would be infinitely less sexy than coughing, Calleigh tucked her cough drop between teeth and gums as she tilted her head to give him better access. “I could say that if you’re still thinking, I’m not doing this right, but I guess I’m not exactly working to make you crazy.”

His tongue was tracing the shell of her ear now, breath washing lightly against her and she swallowed hard before she found herself asking, “Do you want to?”

“Mm… something you’d like me to do?”

“Maybe,” she whispered, sure she was blushing obviously now, and why? Why? She was a grown woman, not a virgin on prom night. The cold medicine must have gone to her brain because the stupid embarrassment was just… well… embarrassing.

When he pulled back and looked at her curiously – and knowingly – she upgraded from embarrassed to mortified. “Is that what you were thinking about?”

“Maybe.”

Catching his grin as he ducked back to nibble her ear again, Calleigh felt utterly ridiculous. _Snap out of it, Duquesne!_ And then he was murmuring to her again, in between little bites and sucks. “I just want to get this out of the way now, to save us time later. But if there is ever anything you want, anything that will make this better for you, anything you even think you might want to see if you like… just tell me.”

“It’s not… unbecomingly bossy for the first time we… do something like this?” She had her eyes closed again, both so she wouldn’t have to look at him and because what he was doing to her ear could only be described as exquisite.

Eric just scoffed at her, trailing his kisses along the edge of her jaw now. “No. It’s sexy.”

She turned toward him to scowl at that and found his lips on hers, a lazy, sweet press and slide and press again. She thought first of germs and second of what was actually happening – their first kiss. Real kiss. She was going to give him the plague as a thank-you for finally kissing her. How considerate. But she couldn’t bring herself to stop, not when he kept brushing his lips against hers lightly, over and over, and certainly not when he sucked in her lower lip and gave it a soft bite.

“Tell me how to make you crazy, Calleigh,” he murmured after releasing her lip, then soothing it with his tongue. “Show me how to make you feel good.”

It took her a moment to remember what he was talking about, the way his mouth continued to nibble teasingly at hers causing some kind of rapid brain cell loss. His hand sliding to cup her breast again refreshed her memory. “Stay there,” she murmured, resting her hand on top of his over a thin layer of cotton.

“Hmm?”

“Just… focus on one for a while… When it gets good, you can switch or, y’know, pretty much do anything…”

“When it gets good?” He’d lifted his head to peer down at her, one brow cocked slightly, his finger zigzagging lazily across her peak.

“You’ll see,” was all the answer she gave him, tilting her head up for another kiss. Her heart was thudding again as he began to squeeze and tug gently at her with his hand, his mouth teasing hers for a brief moment before meandering down along her chin. “Little harder,” she breathed, her belly tightening as he complied and she felt the shimmer of pleasure start low and begin to rise. When his mouth found her ear again, she sighed, “faster,” and her rolled her nipple once, twice, three times in quick succession and that was enough. Her back arched on a ripple of pleasure, a soft cry bubbling up as her hips began to rock gently against nothing – although the hardness her hip was tucked against certainly wasn’t “nothing,” that was for damned sure.

“Oh, hello,” he greeted, sounding pleased and smug. “It just got good, huh?”

“Mmhmm!” It was breathy and needy, and she was squirming with reflexive pleasure as his hand kept up its attention on her now oh-so-sensitive peak.

“Want me to switch?”

“Doesn’t matter.” Her teeth clamped her lip and he gave her another rapidfire triplet of tugs, making her gasp – and cough. But she didn’t mind it so much, her body humming deliciously with arousal now, and as his hand skated down her belly, he discovered that she was telling the truth – it didn’t matter. Her abs tightened under his touch with a soft moan, her head arching back as he skimmed up her ribs to the other peak.

“Wow.”

“Uh huh.”

“Anything I do?”

“Anything,” she gasped as he brushed his fingertips feather-light over her neglected peak. “It’s like flipping a switch. I’m so sensitive, it just… takes a minute.”

“Clearly.” He began to treat her breast to the same delicious torture he’d given the other, and she wished he’d kiss her again, somewhere, anywhere, but she could see through half-lidded eyes that the sight of her was a treat for him so she didn’t ask. A moment later another sharp intake had her coughing again and when the fit passed, he urged her to scoot up a little so her head was pillowed on the armrest. “I don’t want you to choke, but you’ve gotta be able to suck on that.”

“Suck on what now?” she teased, nudging her hip against his erection and earning a groan and chuckle as she shifted her lozenge back onto her tongue.

“Your cough drop, gutter brain. Although if I thought you wouldn’t cough and accidentally bite me…” he murmured, fingers toying with the hem of her tshirt. “Can I see you?”

“Of course,” she told him, as if he was silly to ask, and he wasted no time easing the loose material up until her breasts were bared. She’d expected him to take her tshirt all the way off, but he didn’t. He left it bunched up by her collar and just skimmed his fingertips over the swells, across tight, pale pink nipples. She’d thought he’d keep teasing her, start tugging and squeezing and rolling like he had before, but he didn’t. He just kept touching her, fingertips first, then palms, skating across her chest with a reverence that made her pulse jackhammer. He really was in love with her, wasn’t he? “See something you like?”

“Mm,” he confirmed, finally ducking his head to suck and nip lightly at one peak. “Two things, in fact.”

Her low moan melted into a chuckle at that, then back into a soft sound of pleasure as he continued to tease her with his mouth. His tongue swirled against her, and he told her again how beautiful she was before catching her gently in his teeth and making her breath catch.

As it turned out, he was a quick study. She noticed that he lingered just long enough for the pleasure to swamp her again before switching to her other breast – where he stayed just long enough before switching back. Before long, she was panting softly gripping the back of his head in her hand, her other gripping his shoulder as her leg tried to worm its way between his so she could have something, _anything_ to rub against and ease the ache between her thighs.

It was a small consolation that his breath was ragged too, no doubt as much from the way her hip had been grinding against the hardness in his slacks as from any pleasure he got from doing this to her. And he must be getting something from it, judging by the soft groans and hungry noises he made as he lavished attention on her almost too-pleasured breasts.

She used her foot to tug his leg fully between hers, arching up against it with a heady, relieved moan. Much to her chagrin, he lifted his head, smirking at her as he shifted to grind his thigh against her crotch, eliciting a soft curse from her. “Need something, Cal?”

“Yes!”

“And what would that be?”

“ _Eric._ ” She wasn’t sure if it was an answer, a sigh, or a warning.

“Hungry, maybe?” He ground against her again.

“Eric.”

“Thirsty?” Again.

“Eric!”

“Yes?”

“Touch me!”

“Here?” His fingers skimmed her nipple again.

“I have a gun.”

He laughed outright at that, his hand meandering at an excruciatingly slow pace down her belly. “You do, but it’s in the other room, and I think in you current state, I could easily overpower you.”

“I could get you later.”

“You could…” he started, teasing around her navel now and still smirking. She’d thought maybe she’d be free of those damned smug smirks now that Jake was gone, but nooo, that was apparently just a man thing, not a Jake thing. “…but then I’d never be able to do this again.” They both watched his hand as it slid down, down, until it wedged itself between his thigh and her crotch, rubbing firmly and coaxing out a long, low moan as pleasure spiked in her even through two layers of cotton.

She hissed a soft “yes” as he continued the slow, unyielding friction, her own hand finding its way down to cup his hardness and draw lazily over it. When he groaned and urged her to stop, she grinned. “Oh yeah?”

“Mmhmm.” He was nibbling her ear again. How he’d known that was one of her weak spots, she had no idea, and with the low burn of pleasure in her veins right now, she wasn’t planning to linger on it. “You know…” The tickle of his breath against her ear, her neck, made goosebumps flare over her skin again. “I didn’t come here for sex.”

“I know.”

His mouth had moved to the sensitive spot just behind her ear. “I wasn’t even planning on it when I started touching you. Not even when you let me touch your chest.”

“Yeah?” Calleigh’s voice was breathy and shallow, her brain only half-processing what Eric was telling her. His hand had started to move a little faster over her, and damnit if she wasn’t about to come without him even putting his hand in her pants.

“Yeah… But now, I don’t know. You sound like you might need a good seeing to, and I’m so hard for you.”

The way his voice went gravelly and hot at the end, proof of how affected he really was by her, combined with the slow thrust of the aforementioned hard part against her thigh to send her arousal spiraling impossibly higher. “Eric, I’m so close.”

“Yeah?” She felt the vacuum of cold air when he lifted his head, and she opened her eyes. He was watching her face, his gaze hot and dark and aroused and she suddenly felt both incredibly powerful and incredibly exposed. “You want me to stop or keep going?” Between her thighs, the friction slowed torturously again.

“How fast will you finish?” Because she certainly wouldn’t last long, but she wasn’t sure if she could manage more than one orgasm without hacking up a lung.

“Depends on how long you need me to hold out.”

“Not long,” she moaned, arching her hips up hard against him and gasping, and coughing. His hand slid to her thigh, rubbing there until she settled again.

“I can do that,” Eric chuckled, reaching for the tie of her sweats and tugging it loose.

“Okay, then let’s have sex.”

“Awesome.”

Almost overeager hands shoved at her waistband as she screwed up her face and gave him a look. “Awesome? I say ‘lets have sex,’ and you say ‘awesome?’”

“…Yes.”

She quirked a brow.

“Not the smoothest of responses, I’ll admit, but do I at least get points for honesty?”

“You get points for what you said to your therapist. And luckily for you, those points outweigh the points you just lost for ‘awesome.’”

“You don’t think sex with me sounds awesome?” he teased, maneuvering until he could sit up and finish shucking her pants before starting work on his own. Calleigh mulled it over as she pulled her shirt all the way off and dropped it next to the couch, watching Eric strip down to nothing. God, he was stunning. All defined muscle and tanned skin, and a sneaky peek at Little Delko assured here there was nothing to be shy about there.

His hands settled on her knees, skimmed her thighs until he could grasp her panties – her worn, white, nothing-sexy-about-these-cuz-I’m-certainly-not-getting-laid-tonight panties – and start to tug them down. She clamped her legs shut to stop him. “Can you get that blanket?”

Eric glanced at the throw blanket on a nearby chair. “Now?”

“No, in April,” she snorted, crossing her arms over her chest and smiling at him. “Yes, now. I’m cold.”

“I’ll keep you warm,” he assured, giving her panties another tug.

“If you get the blanket, I’ll let you go bareback,” she offered suggestively, correcting herself almost immediately when she remembered the most common use of the term was not exactly what she had in mind for the evening. “Not in the butt. Just… normal.”

Eric stilled at the offer, fingers still wrapped loosely around the sides of her panties as he looked at the blanket again. “What?”

“I’m on the pill,” she told him, snaking her foot over to trail along his thigh. “Normally, I insist on condoms at first anyway. Just to be safe. But if you get the blanket…” Eric took only half a second to consider before hopping up to grab the blanket. Calleigh took the moment he was gone to slip her panties off and toss them at him with a smirk, feeling suddenly playful and silly. It was a welcome change from the nervous and shy she’d felt for part of the evening.

Then he was covering her, all warm skin and hard muscle, and Calleigh hummed appreciatively as she helped situate the blanket over their bodies. He nestled his shaft against her sex, moaning and cursing softly as he indulged them in a slow, slick slide. “Eric,” she sighed, skimming her hands down his back to settle at his hips.

“Yeah?”

“I was never going to make you wear the condom.”

He pulled back slightly to look at her, catching her sly and slightly guilty grin and shaking his head with a chuckle. “Well, its nice to see you’re feeling well enough to be diabolical. Almost back at your full sass.”

“Mmm,” she agreed with a smile, coasting her palms along his ribcage. “I’ve got the best doctor.”

“Oh yeah?” He pitched his hips against hers again, coaxing a soft moan from her again.

“Mmhmm.”

“Want a shot?” he teased with another sharper grind against her, and she dissolved into giggles for the three seconds before the coughing fit hit her.

“Maybe you should – take my temperature,” she managed between coughs, pressing her face into his shoulder until they subsided.

“In the butt?” he teased, and she snickered again, managing to work up only two short coughs this time.

“Definitely not.”

“Mm. Then where?” Eric’s body shifted slightly over hers as her braced himself on one elbow and reached between them to situate himself at her entrance. His voice was warm and velvety when he questioned softly, “Here?”

The mood had shifted suddenly, the levity of moments before giving way to an anticipatory intensity as his nose brushed hers before she nodded. Lips met next, fusing as he sunk into her heat, a quiet moan echoing between them. She wasn’t sure if it was her or him or both of them that made the noise, but she knew she was responsible for the long, drawn out exhale that came next.

He didn’t move right away, aside from shifting the arm that had been between them to mirror the one between her shoulder and the couch. Supported on his elbows, he caged her in, his fingers tangling into her hair as their mouths kept up their slow and languid waltz. He paused for a brief moment, pulling out of the kiss and taking in a breath as if to say something, but then he seemed to think better of it and pressed his mouth to hers again, hips beginning to rock in a lazy rhythm.

It was Calleigh who broke the kiss next, arching her head back on a soft moan as the rend and sew of their hips made shimmering waves of pleasure surge in her system. His mouth fell on her throat, sucking wet, open-mouthed kisses over her tripping pulse as she sighed his name. This was exquisite.

She heard his voice at her throat, muffled slightly, so she had to work to sort the sounds into order – “You feel so good.”

“So do you,” she breathed, her hands sliding down to his hips, squeezing there, then skimming back up. “I’m not as close as before…” She figured she should tell him, considering she’d promised to be quick.

“Me neither. It’s okay.” He was at her ear again, she realized just before she felt his teeth on the lobe and moaned softly.

“I love when you do that…”

His warm chuckle vibrated against her skin, against her chest and she squeezed her eyes shut tight against the realization that this was real, and she was here, and Eric was between her thighs, at her ear, all around her, inside her. Suddenly she was feeling a little bit closer to the edge. “I noticed.”

Lips curved, hips pitched against his, and it struck Calleigh suddenly that she had barely touched him all evening. Barely kissed him when she wasn’t being kissed, and she felt a momentary pang of guilt and lost opportunity. All this warm, sexy Cuban right next to her and she’d done nothing. Determined to rectify that, she pressed her lips to his shoulder, the curve of his neck, letting her tongue flick out against his skin. He sighed, and she did it again, sucking kisses along the pulse in his neck just like he’d done to her. To her pleasant surprise, he moaned, the pace of his hips hitching up incrementally. “I’ve been neglecting you,” she murmured against his jaw.

“I didn’t mind,” he assured, and she noticed that his voice was starting to sound more like hers, more breathy, more undone. Experimentally, she let her hands wander down, cupping his rear, pulling him deeper into her on the next stroke and doing nothing to hold back the harsh moan the fiercer pleasure called out of her.

“God, Eric… I love the way you feel in me,” He moaned, buried his face in her shoulder, and kept thrusting deeper, faster. Calleigh felt suddenly powerful. “So good,” she purred, curving her fingers until her nails bit lightly into his rear. He grunted, pumped her harder, faster, and she felt the bliss rising again. “Yeah, baby… that’s it, that’s so good…”

“Stop talking,” he panted pleadingly, nipping her shoulder. “I’m not gonna last if you keep talking.”

“I don’t need you to last,” she moaned, scratching her nails lightly up over his hips. “I just need you to touch me.”

“Yeah?” At her insistent nod, he levered up onto one elbow again, hips driving harder, faster, deeper as his fingers sought her out. At the first touch over her clit she sucked in a breath, then coughed it out, groaned, gasped for him to keep going as she tried to stamp down the coughs into his shoulder again. He didn’t listen, of course, instead waiting for her to get her breath back before he resumed his pace in her, and this time when he pressed his fingers against her she swallowed hard and forced herself to exhale.

It was good, it was so good, and she told him so as she arched her back and let the quick rhythm of his fingers, his shaft, his panting breath and soft grunts push her higher, closer, until she was hovering on the edge again and babbling. “Eric, God yes, please yes, so close, I’m so... I’m so close again… Just a little more, just – oh! …wait, go back. Right – yeah, _there!_ Shit. God. _Fuck._ ” Two more thrusts, a third, and then it swamped her. The harsh wave of pleasure rose up, bowed her back, made her tense and quiver and cry out as he kept up his relentless pace and cursed softly in her ear.

She came back down with a shaky sigh of his name, coughing and panting, burying her face in his bicep when his arm settled next to her again as he kept pushing into her. Her hitching breath aggravated her throat and she marveled at how unattractive she must be, but he didn’t seem to mind her gasping and coughing. Not if his grunts and moans of pleasure were any indication. He was close, had to be, so she slid her hands down again, cupping his rear and urging him harder against her, managing a strangled, “Come for me” between coughs. He buried his face in her neck and apologized, and she shook her head, crying out softly as pleasure bubbled in her again. She couldn’t come again – she thought she might choke to death if she did -- but she swallowed, swallowed again, stopped the coughing long enough to moan encouragingly and he finally, finally came inside her with a shudder and a groan of her name and three sharp thrusts.

Calleigh’s cough had gotten the better of her though, and she floundered for a cough drop as they wracked her body and brought tears to her eyes. Stupid, ridiculous, unsexy cough. That was what they got, she supposed, for trying to have sex while she was plague-ridden. Not trying. Succeeding. By the way her legs were tingling, succeeding quite well, she thought as she sucked hard on the lozenge until the aftershock coughs had subsided.

“You okay?” he murmured, pressing a kiss to her shoulder and nuzzling against the side of her neck.

“Mmhmm.”

“I’m sorry about, uh… I was too close to stop.”

She shook her head again, nudging his up until she could look him in the eye. “No, it was good. It was really good. I’m sorry about my tuberculosis.”

Eric chuckled at her, brushed his lips over hers once, twice, three times. And then she coughed again. And he laughed again, shaking his head. “Alright. To bed with you, Typhoid Calleigh.”

Deciding that was probably the best course of action for all parties involved, she nodded her assent, and within five minutes they were tucked in her bed together, her nightstand stocked with tissues and water and a mountain of Ricolas. Eric’s body was spooned behind her, his palm rubbing soothing circles over her back. Funny, spooning and rubbing were how they’d gotten into this mess, weren’t they, she thought with a smile.

He nuzzled into her hair, pressed kisses there as she sighed. “You’re gonna get sick, you know.”

“I’m not worried about it. You’ll fuck me better,” he whispered teasingly, earning a laugh.

“I’ll fuck you _best._ ”

Eric shook his head, found the curve of her neck and pressed a chaste kiss there. “Not what I meant.”

“I know, but its still true.”

“Definitely,” he concurred, his arm sliding over to wrap around her torso and draw her even closer. “Even when you’re infectious.”

“I’m really kind of gross.”

“You are.” He grunted at the elbow she sent back lightly into his rib. “And yet I can’t resist you.”

“I wonder why that is?” she drawled in sleepy amusement.

“Mm. I think it’s a sickness.” It was the last thing she remembered him saying before she dozed off. If she’d been just a little more awake she might have heard the rest. “Or maybe I’m just in love with you.”


End file.
